


Pretty Little Psychopath (Phan)

by NoRestForTheWickedFic



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Short One Shot, conflicted - Freeform, psycho!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoRestForTheWickedFic/pseuds/NoRestForTheWickedFic
Summary: Voices, they are the ones pulling the strings in Dan Howell's brain, as he rests on the line of psychopathy.Phil, on the other hand, may be the only tether to reality that this 'pretty little psycho' has.





	

Dan twirled the blade between his fingers. It felt right, as if something was telling him to kill and never stop killing. A crimson glow from the city sunset filtered through the windows. For an instant, his eyes flickered yellow and then, blood red. He gripped the handle of the knife, his fingers tracing over the wood grain. His eyes darted from the glinting blade and the doorway before him. Cold and empty. Stepping through the doorway, he passed the knife to his left hand and then, he smiled.

The hallway was deserted, unsurprisingly. That was the grim reality in a household of the antisocial, empty hallways and frigid silence. He was tempted to call out into darkness and wait for some tether back to reality. The knife began slip out of his anxious hands. His mind commanded him to _do it do it do it now don’t stop don’t stop ever USE IT_.In that moment, he faltered and glanced around a corner. In a white plastic chair, there sat Phil, blissfully ignorant. The only sounds in the room were the clicking of the keyboard and Dan’s labored breathing.

His thoughts raced, telling him to _kill him kill him now_. The edges of his vision blurred, his eyes focusing on the ebony strands of Phil’s hair. Perhaps that would distract him from the sickening feeling gnawing at his gut. Sirens from the surrounding city pierced the veil of silence. Dan stepped into the room and a few more steps towards Phil. He raised a shaky arm, shivers running up and down his spine. He had to do it. But wasn’t it wrong to kill such an innocent creature? he asked himself. The knife rose higher into the air. He avoided the reflex to run his free hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

The sinner kills the saint, as it always seems to go. His arm jerked forwards and back, seemingly arguing whether to stab or spare the poor soul before him. _Do it_ no _stab him now kill him_ no I’m not going to _but you must do it do it do it_ … His hand opened, the knife tumbling from his grip and clattering to the floor.

_I can’t._


End file.
